


Closer

by SaltyWords (agent4hire22)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Brief 'Baby Bird Just Learning To Fly' Sex Moment, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Astroglide Product Placement, Banter, Because They Won My Heart, Bottom Dean, Can't Forget Love, Dean and Cas Having A Great Fucking Relationship, Dirty Talk, Do You Hear That Astroglide?, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, Grace Kink, Grace Sex, Hand Jobs, Humor, I Want Lube, Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Season/Series 12, Smut, These Are The Tags People, Top Castiel, Wing Kink, mentions of BDSM, really a lot of smut, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10502118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent4hire22/pseuds/SaltyWords
Summary: Dean knows there’s a whole lot right with a little experimentation, he just needs a little extra convincing for this.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aoichou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoichou/gifts).



> A very happy (belated) birthday to my dear @aoitrinity  
> I REALLY hope this is what you wanted <3
> 
> And a very special thank you to @braezenkitty for being my beta - that said, all typos are mine because she didn’t see the final draft. Huzzah!

_ Help me _

_ Tear down my reason _

_ Help me _

_ It's your sex I can smell _

_ Help me _

_ You make me perfect _

_ Help me become somebody else _

_ I want to fuck you like an animal _

_ I want to feel you from the inside _

_ I want to fuck you like an animal _

_ My whole existence is flawed _

_ You get me closer to God _

_ Through every forest above the trees _

_ Within my stomach scraped off my knees _

_ I drink the honey inside your hive _

_ You are the reason I stay alive _

~ “Closer” by NIN

“You’re tired,” Cas whispered. The room’s shadows painted something creamy into his voice. Dean threaded fingers into Cas’ coat and slipped it from his shoulders, let the floor borrow it for a bit as he leaned into a kiss.

He was probably picking up on the muscle fatigue in Dean’s arms. After that dig, Dean was sure as shit feeling it. His shoulders and biceps were shredded. This close, there was no way in hell Cas couldn’t feel that little shudder. Dean was getting too old to bounce back with a cold beer and a burger these days, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Maybe,” he hummed. “But not too tired.”

“Not too tired for sex?”

“Never too tired for that.”

He bit the kiss into Cas’ lips. Eagerly took the little noise Cas made back and mentally stored it.

The air from the field was still bogged around him. That damp, earthy stench from the graveyard. The tendered grass stalks and barley plugging the farmland to the north. It sat in his clothes.

The whole thing was in the rearview now, but just one smell of him brought Dean right back. Plopped him at the foot of that headstone and filled him with a glassy feeling again, like he was watching Cas tip his chin and explain who they were digging up and why it was important all over again.

Just another case. Just another spook.

_ Doesn’t matter, Cas. Let’s just get it done. Send Sam home, and get back to the motel to break in that fresh set of sheets. _

Because it wasn’t even a slip up anymore. It was just _common practice._

Somewhere close to six months on the regular, and Dean didn’t need a news bulletin to tell him there was no going back. _Better than a beer and a burger by a mile,_ he thought as he teased fingers at the back of Cas’ neck, ran a hand down that loosened tie and tugged him in to kiss the thought.

Cas cocked a brow as his fingers trailed the chill into Dean’s collar and over his collarbone. “But, also not too tired to try something new?” he asked. “I think it would make you feel better.”

“Mmm, I like new,” Dean smiled. He curled into Cas, breathed him in as he got a handful of Cas’ ass and pulled him in tighter. “We talkin’ new like crackin’ open a full bottle of lube, or new like breakin’ out the ball gag?”

A curious squint spread through Cas’ face. “Do you have a ball gag, Dean?”

“Depends on who’s askin’.”

It was always like this: Cas trying so damn hard to be serious while Dean fucked it up. Not to say that Cas wasn’t the king of recoveries, though, because he sure as hell was. And once things got rolling, there was usually no stopping him.

But, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t fun to play.

Cas toyed with the edge of his bottom lip, and as Dean tried to nip another kiss from him, he dodged away. He frowned, curled fingers into Dean’s waistband and slipped inside. Grazed the head of Dean’s dick with soft fingertips, dipped a little further and pet the bundled nerves along the bottom with a thumb.

Dean melted to it, dragged the tip of his nose through Cas’ scruff. Made a long, warm noise.

“Do you like that, Dean?”

“Mmm… yes.”

“Do you want more?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

Cas suddenly backed off, a lithe smile spreading. “See?” he whispered. “Now, why would I gag you when I love you begging so much?”

_ Yep, there it is. The King strikes again.  _ “You’re a fuckin’ cock tease, you know that?”

“It’s only teasing if I don’t mean it.”

“Naw, it’s teasing when you start shit that you’re not gonna do anything about.”

“That doesn’t sound like me.”

“Yeah? My tight jeans are tellin’ a different story.”

Cas snagged Dean’s belt loops and pulled the two of them flush. He rubbed a steady hand over Dean’s growing dick again, eyes never faltering as he frowned. He walked Dean back, sat him in a folding chair near the tiny kitchenette, and got on his knees between Dean’s thighs. He kissed that wet, wild smell into Dean again.

“Are you sure?” he cooed. “Because it seems like I very much intend to do something for you.”

Dean was quick to relent. “Fine,” he agreed. “No, it doesn’t sound like you. So talk. What’s the _something new_ that’s got you all hung up if it  ain’t a gag and some Astroglide?”

“A grace something,” Cas said with that signature, dominant kick of his chin.

“Movin’ into supernatural-kinks already? Thought we were still at socially-acceptable kinks. Handcuffs, feathers, that absurd thing you do with your tongue—”

“I’ve never handcuffed you.”

“But you should. That’s what I’m sayin’. Focus, man.”

Cas’ hands slid up Dean’s shirt and over his sides. A kind of softness in his touch that went right to Dean’s gut every time. Like there was love in his fingerprints and the whorls were leaving breadcrumbs behind.

Dean sat straight as the goosebumps trailed up his spine.

“We don’t have to, Dean, but I was just thinking… I’m an angel. Maybe you’d like to take advantage of it? Even just once.”

Dean chewed the thought, threaded open fingers through Cas’ hair and kissed him.

The flush of his lips caught the light as someone pulled in to park near their motel window. The headlights went out and the room went dark again. Dean’s attention wandered to the Impala — whether or not he’d locked her — then he quickly snapped back.

“I wanna take advantage of you,” he said, bobbing in for another kiss.

Cas dodged it. Held Dean with those eyes, still waiting.

_ That bastard could wait out the moon for a reaction, if he wanted. _

Dean sighed, relented. “Fine. Show me the magic, you stubborn asshole. What’s the game?”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“You trust me?”

“Yeah, Aladdin. You even gotta ask?”

Cas slipped a sweet, toothy grin, and it was worth it if only for that.

“Okay,” he whispered, raising fingers to Dean’s chest.

“Okay, but my safe word’s _Fonzerelli_ _.”_

Cas sighed, shook his head and bit a kiss into Dean’s bottom lip before screwing his face on serious again. “It’s not that kind of thing, Dean.”

“Just sayin’. Rules are important.”

Grace suddenly sparked at Cas’ fingertips and trickled through Dean’s chest in a gentle wave of static. It cured goosebumps as it traveled. Stood Dean’s hairs at attention and turned the air electric warm.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling — Dean had been pumped full of grace a time or two before — but this was different. The energy wasn’t in a mad rush, searching for whatever was broken. It didn’t need to bind or sew.

It was burrowing.

Seeding Dean’s soul and laying hooks.

Deep down, it trickled through his pelvis and into his legs. Spread. Curled into his fingertips and to the edge of his lips. Cas’ eyes flashed a brief, bright grace blue, and Dean couldn’t be sure, but based off the light reflected on Cas’ face, his own eyes must’ve done the same.

Dean’s body hummed with grace.

He breathed, blinked wide as the room changed around him.

The shadows went hazy. Cast-offs of a world Dean suddenly felt like they were no longer _really_ in. Secondary now to the firefly-like speckles of electricity cropping up in the air all around them. Another misplaced sweep of headlights tore through the blinds and lit a bold pair of wings now suddenly spreading behind  Cas’ shoulders.

_ Not like the burnt shadow. _

_ Nothing like the burnt shadow. _

They pushed the jewels of light in the air as they stretched wide. Sparse feathers where they were scarred, but a deep, midnight black color so other-worldly, Dean felt like he’d just gotten a hall pass between the lines of creation just to see it.

He realized he wasn’t, and promptly reminded himself to breathe. Blink. _To fucking speak._

“Holy shit…” he puffed.

He pawed haphazardly for Cas’ shirt, balled fingers in it, because it felt like maybe he just needed to hold on — _keep holding on._

“It’s a grace bond,” Cas whispered.

He carefully settled a slow, heavy kiss into Dean, and the moment their lips touched, a sparkler popped in the middle of Dean’s chest. Pleasure shot straight from the pit of his stomach and spread like wildfire to his fingertips.

He suddenly realized he felt like he was in both places at once. Like the chair was under his ass, but his knees were buried in the floor at the same time. The trim dividing the threadbare carpet from the linoleum was digging into his right — _no, Cas’ right —_ knee _,_ and that was a, _uh,_ whole new  kinda thing—

Cas pet soft fingers down his cheek and it tingled, brought his attention back. “Would you like to have sex like this?”

Dean strained against his jeans, tore his eyes from those tar black wings just long enough to nod.

— _Everything’s laced with sunshine. Hot and sticky. Fucking fourth dimensional right._

“Yeah,” he managed. His voice cracked.

He clawed fingers into Cas’ jaw, nodded again, more desperate. “Yeah — yes.”

He stumbled and went for Cas’ zipper, caught up in his tie. Ripped it off. Unbuttoned his shirt, fingers fumbling.

“Off. Take it —” He dug fingers into Cas’ sides, popped his pants open, and finally got Cas’ pinked dick out. “—off.”

Cas came in hot again, tongue and dragging teeth. The kind of kiss that reminded Dean he didn’t _really_ have control of this runaway train, and he didn’t want it either.

Dean tasted him and somehow tasted himself too. The sweat on his own skin. The feel of his unshaven face on the underside of Cas’ palm. Cas stroking himself, but it coming through as a ghost-twinge on his own dick.

“ _Fuck, Cas._ I need you in me. I need it right now.”

And even if that used to be a little hard for him to say, it sure as hell wasn’t anymore. Dean knew what happened when he started begging for it. It just lit Cas’ fuse. And watching Cas unravel was what this game was all about, _goddamnit_.

Cas suddenly rocked up on his knees and stood. His wings spread to balance him out, and he shot forward, nipped Dean’s earlobe, grabbed him by the hand.

“That makes me very happy to hear,” he purred. “Because I _really want_ to fuck you.”

Then he tugged Dean up. Tossed him to the bed, ankles still tangled in denim.

Cas pulled a foot free and quickly tucked up between Dean’s legs, bit a hot mark into his inner thigh as he rolled Dean’s dick in his fist.

Dean moaned, clawed the comforter.

He felt it like a strummed chord: his and Cas’ racing hearts. The struck nerves in his own cock. Cas’ loose wrist and curled fingers. Cas’ dick rubbing into the pleated bedspread as he bent to lick the head of Dean’s cock, swallow him up. Then, the salty pre come taste Cas now had on his tongue.

It was kinda both of them and kinda neither of them all at once, and if Dean was being honest, it felt little like a ride in an upside down dishwasher — _whatever the fuck that meant—_ but it was good.

_ Fuck barriers when you’re ridin’ the ethereal wavelength — apparently. _

Dean tangled fingers in Cas’ hair and tactlessly pulled him back up, mouth off. Because what he wanted was Cas’ weight on him — those counterbalanced wings spread-eagle over top and stretching from wall-to-fucking-wall.

What he wanted, was for Cas to _know_ how desperate he was for it.

And Cas heard him somehow.

He crawled over Dean, kissed his neck. The beautiful swoop of his shoulders was accentuated by that plush of feathers leveling out behind him.

Dean gasped at the sight, but Cas cut it short. Stuffed fingers into Dean’s mouth, didn’t stop til he’d hit the back of his throat and culled a gag. Cas pressed his tongue a moment before dragging them out again, spit-slick. Then, he tugged Dean’s ass up. Angled that proud chin as his hot eyes settled into Dean’s face.

“God, yes,” Dean answered, because that expression was enough of an ask.

Cas sunk in, and Dean writhed into the mattress, moaning for that beautiful, two-finger burn.

The grace hummed through him and laced the feeling in a bright white glow. His tight ass clamped around Cas’ fingers, and, _yeah,_ Dean could weirdly feel it as if they were his own fingers, but really what he could feel, was the twinge of excitement it boiled inside Cas.

“Yes, like that,” he pleaded, and Cas quickly scissored a third in. Stretched Dean open. Teased his ready dick up through the cleft of Dean’s ass and thumbed his balls.

Dean panted, clawed at him. Wrapped a leg around Cas’ waist.

Cas slipped off balance. His wings beat to steady him, and the sudden burst of wind was enough of a surprise to put Dean’s stomach in his throat.

He startled and Cas backed off, hands coming up.

“I’m sorry—”

“No, nonono,” Dean said, quickly shaking it off. He grappled Cas back. “Do not get shy on me now, Hawkgirl.”

He spit in his own palm and wet Cas’ dick with it, working him with a tight fist. He watched Cas’ face take the flush of pleasure like a champ while his chest went blotchy. “You know what you’re doing. Come on. Show me the magic.”

Cas melted back into him easy. There was a moment, a brief _thank you,_ delivered in a soft kiss and an arc of fingers behind Dean’s ears, then he groaned. Let the rhythm of Dean’s fist take him, soft fingers curling hard.

He was close.

Dean could feel it.

In the pulse of Cas’ dick. In the swell of heat in his own belly.

So, Dean angled him against his hole. Kicked a heel over his shoulder and begged one more time. “Ya gotta come somewhere, huh?”

Cas brushed a smile away with a bite his lip and finally relented.

He sunk his cock in. Slow through Dean’s tight ass and squirmy whine. He waited for the grace to eat the ache away, and when it did, he was moving again.

Long, deep thrusts.

Dean grunted, chest tight and breath lost a long time ago, because, each pump was hitting that sweet- _fucking_ -spot.

_ Of course it was. Just imagine what you getta do when both people experience the whole picture _. 

Dean came. Spunk splattering his stomach and up onto his chest. The feeling rolled through and it seemed to hit Cas harder. He groaned. Bent and buried his face in Dean’s neck as he came, wet dick sliding slick through Dean now.

Another burst of air from those magnificent wings buffeted Dean, and he watched the molted feathers kick off.

Dean whimpered, shivered as goosebumps overran him again. A deep-stomach heat rushed in after, and he could feel all the way through his eardrums.

He clawed Cas’ back. “ _Fonzie_ _,_ ” he slurred.

Cas panted, collapsed on top of him, stretched out.

Dean blinked, breathed.

Watched the feathers dance alongside the jeweled static as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

He plucked one from the air — a little downy thing with more fluff than barb, and rolled it between his fingers. He stared at it as it slowly faded away with the heft of Cas’ wings. The starlight speckles and heavenly grace hum in his skin.

The room filtered back in as it was before: stretched fingers of street light through the blinds, and late night shadow.

This was the stuff dreams were made of.

It was a quiet kind of perfect that kept everything in Dean’s head level, and dirt wedged in all the right grooves.

Cas and those blue eyes that were somehow always whispering shit Dean shouldn’t be allowed to hear. Those long fingers of his that were walking in corners they weren’t supposed to be mapped to tread. Feathers Dean couldn’t see, but turned out he sure as fuck could feel when the moment was right.

And this weight.

On top of Dean now, it seemed like it should’ve always been there. He pet a soft finger up Cas’ spine, and drew a long, satisfied sigh. Cas pressed a soft kiss into his neck, buried his face in the crook.

“Was that your safe word?” he mumbled.

Dean hummed back, energy spent. “You were right. Was better than a ball gag.”

Cas chuckled against him. “We can do your idea too. You can pick tomorrow.”

_ Tomorrow. _

Dean smiled, kissed Cas’ temple.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [winchester reload](http://winchester-reload.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Come say hi!


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